Darlin' You're Lookin' Good In Black
by Into-The-Fire5
Summary: Sunset falls on the Sanctuary, and Negan intends to spend the entirety of his evening in the company of his newest wife, and what a passionate night it turns out to be. {Sexual Content} Season 7 Oneshot


»»—- —-««

You give me the reason. You give me control.

I gave you my purity. My purity you stole.

Did you think I wouldn't recognise, this compromise?

Am I just too stupid to realise?

Stale incense, old sweat, and lies, lies, lies.

It comes down to this. Your kiss. Your fist. And you strain.

It gets under my skin. Within. Take in. The extent of my sin.

_**Sin - Nine Inch Nails**_

»»—- —-««

Casually striding into his luxurious quarters, Negan immediately spots the slender figure perched with a flawless posture on the leather sofa, looking radiant in the amber light. Or perhaps from her prenatal glow. He flashes a grin blithely, sauntering over to her while clutching Lucille firmly across his shoulder. "There she is."

As suspected, he couldn't get enough of the samurai's company. Countlessly calling upon her to spend days and nights of leisure or traversing around the Sanctuary with her proudly located at his side. 'Course she was no ordinary woman. But an exotic, sword wielding survivor with fierce disposition and admirable strength.

Since confronting Rick's merry band of bandits, Negan saw it instantly. Scorching eyes filled with hate locked onto him, masking her fear and meeting his challenge, igniting a thrill and curiosity deep to his core. He was sharp to understand this woman had experienced some messed up shit, and he was continuously one to favour and be drawn to strong women of this type. Itching upon his first awaited arrival at the Safe Zone, catching sight of Michonne cautiously peering through the windowpane, later to not only return guns he requested, but also bring fucking dinner hauled on her shoulders. There was no restraining the sly approval slipped to his new pal Rick at the sight and watching Michonne part with a stomp in her step and alluring sway of her hips, Negan grinned wickedly. That was when he knew, he had to fucking have her.

Meanwhile in the present, this honeymoon period with his newest wife never seemed to end, and he was exhilarated, revelling in every second of it.

Subtly turning her head to peek, Negan marches in clutching a coppery glass bottle in his gloved hand, gratefully not intoxicated. That would have been particularly insufferable. Still, it doesn't prevent her reprimand. At first Michonne delays her acknowledgement, fixated on the clustered acres of trees outside and appreciating the soft blends of colour covering the sky through three ludicrously large windows. Any other occasion, this could have proven to be quite the romantic setting. However, she was overly conscious of his attention and was in no mood to deal with Negan's trigger temper - often twisted into sexual energy. To a man like him, silence cut deeper than any knife.

"Evenin'." She replied simply, crossing her legs and appearing uninterested as though to sway advances.

Surroundings of dull grey wallpaper and furnishings reminded her of a prison, only with scarce decorations of fern potted plants, hatched patterns of lampshades and a mounted trophy head hanging on the wall that felt as though it were watching her sometimes. Though that was simply isolation deceiving her. The man before her that terrorised their community was Michonne's only _real_ company in this entire compound, the unorthodox arrangement completely secluding her from everyone else. Although it proved pointless anyway, as Michonne would rather desist from unnecessary introductions and acquainting with any other lunatics.

A swell of sadness filled her being. She missed her sword, going out beyond the walls. She missed the comfort of Alexandria, the people she'd grown to know and regard as family. Above all, she missed Rick and her kids. She allowed herself to wonder what they were doing right now.

Staring indulgently for a moment, Negan carefully props Lucille against the separate armchair opposite and approaches slowly to settle behind her, towering over her form while placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. He leans down, warm breath spilling against her neck and sending a chill down her spine. "I ever tell you how much you've been fucking glowing these days?"

The words making her stiffen. Feeling that knowing grin behind that velvety voice, she's tempted to shove him away but barely refrains, concentrating harder on the outside as though a poised statue. The lecherous man hums and plants a kiss against Michonne's cheek before situating himself next to her with a relaxed groan, setting his bottle down on the modern looking coffee table. Sinking into the dark leather, he props an arm on the back of the couch, half-embracing her.

"You're not still mad about our little spectacle, are you?" He chuckles softly.

Michonne grimaced, evoking the humiliating memory and wanting to spew all kinds of obscenities in his direction. "Were those theatrics _necessary_?"

"Sure as hell was for me." Negan formed a cheshire grin. "It all worked out. You got what you wanted in the end, you get to go home and see Rick the thin dick prick, sooner than later. Win-win for both of us. How about that?"

Whatever that implied, she did not like it, an anxious feeling developing in her stomach.

Michonne eventually sighs, making to move away with a creak of the couch, his familiar masculine scent becoming overpowering. She couldn't even fall on preparing him a drink right now as a distraction. Negan had other ideas as he seizes her arm, the touch of his leather glove against her bare skin making her gasp. Upon braving a glance back, his expression appeared hardened, stealing a moment to observe her face before twitching a come-hither gesture with his fingers. Reluctantly obeying and slowly pulled back to a seating position, he inches closer.

"I like you. And I want you to like it here." Negan points at her, with a matter of fact tone. She often remained cold as a rock towards him, and much to his annoyance, it was starting to bother him.

From the saviour's tone alone, it sounded as though she should be appreciative. Even if there were truth behind those words, Negan had a very peculiar and particular way of showing that. Michonne twitches a scowl but instead settles with deriding the man. "You'll be disappointed." She retorts.

"I think you will. Sooner or later you'll understand what I'm willing to achieve here, what I do for these people. This place was falling apart when I took it from a weak asshole thinkin' he had control over bigger assholes. I brought it back, brought it all together, and there's a reason it's all still standin'. And you're gonna see that shit for yourself, one day."

"You sound so sure." She narrows her eyes, looking scornful. "What's happened, you didn't have to do any of this. You had a _choice_."

"So did you. I ain't pussy footin' around, sweetheart." Negan scoffs. "Think I was gonna let ya'll walk away from what you did? I simply stepped up to show Rick who he was fucking around with and that I take this very seriously. He wants to take shit further, step outta line, get a whole lot more people killed, that's his own damned decision. But you, you're different. You're smart."

Bewildered and disgusted, Michonne takes in the sight of her enemy in proximity while processing his words. The sharp contrast of black hair and salty beard, olive toned skin and devious eyes that continuously pulled her in. Though she was adamant of resisting being sucked into his little regime.

He knocks back another gulp of his drink, pursing his lips before half-lidded, curious eyes meet hers again. Heart pounding as silence reigned, Negan moves stray dreadlocks aside and leans close to nuzzle against the soft skin of her neck. He begins pecking and pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses, sending more shivers coursing through her body as she sighed. Negan had long since learned all her sensitive areas that drove reactions out of her and often where he'd focus attention most.

"Ohhh. How's about I wine and dine you instead darlin'?" He drawls with a smirk playing temptingly at his lips, while fingertips trace the line of her back so delicately that she arches herself.

Finally pulling away, Negan kisses her passionately as a lover would, hand settling on the lower curve of her back. Upon feeling her gradually reciprocate, soft luscious lips moving in rhythm to his own with a hand cupping his cheek, a low guttural sound stirs in his throat. Pressing further, prying open her lips with the utmost piety, his tongue demands entrance while a hand slides up to cradle the back of her neck, holding her close.

Michonne matches his passion and while they begin devouring each other, Negan slowly steers her svelte body to straddle his lap, a building intensity between them sending tremors along her nerves and rousing a growl from him. Gripping the swell of her hip, he guides her to grind against his crotch slightly while deepening the kiss. Eventually breaking for air, Negan smirks and keeps carnal, half-lidded eyes hooked on his wife as he takes another indulging swig from the bottle.

Senses heightened, the scent of leather and darkened lust was desirably more distinct and enveloping now. Michonne's mind goes automatic at their lovers' tryst and pushes roughly into the kiss as though screaming out her frustrations and resentments, while Negan so naturally swallows it all, strongly tasting the alcohol on his restless tongue. She was lolled into an intense trance, a surging tide of warmth directing lower as gloved hands sneak under her black dress for a moment to greedily palm at her curves. Gasping at the initial feeling, her heart leaped in her chest. The amount of attention the debauched man gave to her stomach, trailing caressing touches and grazing his thumb above her navel shoots a sinking feeling within her. Those odd little touches she received often.

Moving things along, Michonne began her task of unzipping his leather jacket and pulling it open wide to expose his shirt as white as snow - others soaking crimson remains of some poor bastard - but before she can discard it, Negan dives back impatiently for another sexually charged kiss.

"_Fuck_…" Negan hisses, jerking her closer while slipping hands under her curved thighs.

Frustratingly, the man begins bucking up his hips while continuing the assault on her mouth. Grinding, pulling and stirring heat down against his erection that begged to be released, emulating the deed he ached to engage her in. The teasing friction of his bulge was plenty to send flutters through her innards while biting her lip to withhold groans of unwanted arousal. However, Michonne soon found herself rolling her hips of her own accord, brushing along the size of him with broken gasps. Michonne's emotions were running high and red mist clouded her senses, surely the reason why she was behaving in such a manner. Cursing inaudibly, she blamed the pesky hormones.

Discarding his jacket uncaringly, Negan senses her growing excitement and sensually pushes down the thin straps of her dress, sliding down her toned arms enough to reveal more of her cleavage. He breaks their lip lock to lazily kiss her bare shoulder, across the collar bone and trailing down to halt above her chest, attempting to ease as well as tease her equally. Earning dazed exhalations from the voluptuous woman, Negan purrs and encircles a finger around the hem of her fitted black dress, tugging down further to expose her plump breasts. Like a delicacy, Negan starts suckling and kissing hungrily around the shape of her breast while attentively massaging the other.

She tries hard to ignore the growing pleasure, but finding herself incredibly sensitive, Michonne grunts sharply and slips moans at the unyielding attention, entangling fingers in his hair while arching her body. Behind clenched eyelids, the samurai felt the full force of Negan's predatory gaze trained on her expressions, seeking to catch eyes the instant sensations overwhelm her. With precision, he begins flicking and swirling his tongue before gently grazing his teeth against her pebble like nipple, giving the slightest tug for good measure. Suddenly the pulsing between her soaked thighs grew to be agonising.

Unable to take it himself, while she squirmed, his hands slipped under her backside as the man shifted for the large, opulent bed positioned in the corner. Dark oak framed and beautifully carved with gunmetal grey sheets, holding many sinful fancies.

However, Michonne mildly shoves at his shoulders, pressing him back into the seat. "No." She murmured.

At her defiance, his brow knitted together in a frown, pinning her in place with a hard, penetrating stare and grasping her hips possessively. But he doesn't move. Something about her boldness and determination piques his attention, dubiously reclining into the couch and watching the woman closely. Negan sharply focused on her hands caressing his torso through the material, producing a sudden fucking need to feel her hands gilding over his flushed skin, before she trails lower to work on unfastening his belt. With heavy intrigue, he tilts his head, drinking in the sight of her.

Michonne began melting at the center to anticipation and the implicating sound of carefully unzipping his fly, eyeing his standing member able to ruin her again and again. Observing his pupils dilating out of control when she lifts the skimpy dress skirt, Michonne reveals her bare softness and settles herself in position. Catching a gasp in her throat, she sinks to glide her slick, tightening walls around his pulsating length, shutting her eyes involuntary as his girth stretches her open. Negan tosses his head back while sucking in a harsh breath followed by a deep animalistic groan, gathering her skirt to snake up her slim waist. Once again leaving her attire a mere bundle of cloth around her middle. Despite her display, Michonne scowls and rocks her hips with confidence, taking the man deeper inside her surging heat.

Pulling his gloves off with his teeth and tossing them carelessly on the coffee table, Negan's hands are instantly on her as his breathing shortly becomes ragged. Having such a virile, arrogant and dominating man quaking below her fuelled a burning fire that surged through her veins. She seemed to render Negan speechless, something about him spurring her on. Perceptive of his eagerness for her frantic riding, the way earthly eyes bored into hers while his jaw muscles appeared taut, she switched to slower, deliberate sways of her body. She allowed herself a concealed twitch of smugness at her lips, grasping a sense of control he often possessed.

The erotic way Michonne rise and fell was.. entrancing. _Hot damn._ Chuckling breathlessly, he began thrusting up into her, finding the samurai's newfound fervour tonight beyond fucking attractive he could fucking shoot off in an instant. However the more she pushed, the more he desired to push back on instinct. With primal urge to pin the riled woman beneath him, Negan attempts to move again but Michonne pushes back harder than previously, holding firm as her face hovered above his.

Jaw twitching and tension around his eyes growing more obvious, Negan growls louder this time, a flicker of anger stemming from the man. However, his resistance was ebbed as she began slamming down onto his shaft, wrapping her shapely legs securely around his figure as the two cry out in unison. Panting harshly, he gropes her ample backside and drags his digging fingertips across her soft polished skin before pounding her roughly, loud slick noises of her soaked cunt and smacking hips filling the room.

Lost in the tensive heat, it proved useless exchanging words between themselves, communicating all they needed to through lingering glances and sways of their entangled bodies.

Unknown feelings continue driving her and ridding her coyness as she braces muscular arms for leverage on the back of the couch, caging him in but he seemed otherwise oblivious. Eventually Michonne threads shaking fingers through his pitch-dark locks and grasps a fistful while locking his gaze. In a fleeting second, she knew she had him. His features considerably hardened with raw, uncontained lust, staring back with intensity of a storm, adamant in not breaking their connection. Invading further into her space, Negan snarled silently and began pouring hot breaths against her parted mouth. In that moment, all he saw was her. And he looked ravenous.

"Turn around." Negan rasped out heatedly in pleasure as he spun her around, stopping dead in his tracks from what he intended to do when her movements became more fervid.

Swallowing hard, he watched the enticing flesh of her ass ripple with each forceful slap of her hips, her reaching back to claw at his thigh for support. Regaining thought, he cradles Michonne against his chest and bows back far enough to rest her head on his shoulder, crashing their mouths together like a last meal. Tingling sensations travel from the base of his spine as strained moans begin tumbling past her lips. Gliding fingers insatiably over every inch, each crevasse of her nudeness, cupping and groping her breasts, smoothing over her thighs and the flat of her stomach, something hits him like a freight train. She was _his_. He had claimed this woman in ways Rick hadn't, rousing him to pump his hips ruthlessly harder.

Negan's vulgar mouth was then situated at her ear, hot breaths spilling against her cheek and panting in short bursts while forcing her to look at him. His thrusts were quickly becoming brutal and urgent as his desire peaked, but her body welcomed it, each jab of his cock plunging deeper into her wetness sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her. Stumbling over her words and sounds, Michonne begins losing orientation, forming the man's name on her tongue unheedingly.

"Fuck that's it... say my fucking name." She feels his victorious smirk pressed against her skin, but when a startled moan catches in her mouth, Negan swiftly grips her locks and rumbles dangerously in her ear. "Say. It."

Before expelling the demand, a rough hand dips down to rub her sensitive clit in rapid circles, rupturing a high-pitched moan and feeling her thighs tremble violently around him. The name of their enemy finally rips out in a cry of ecstasy when he purposefully angles his length inside her, slamming against her cervix with enough force to almost send her lurching forward onto the coffee table.

"Beg for it." Negan growls darkly through gritted teeth, digging nails into her hips. "I wanna hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours."

Like a rehearsed line in a script, Michonne gnawed her bottom lip before chanting out in erratic breaths as her climax approaches. "Please. Finish inside me. Please!" She repeated, threading a hand in his mussed hair. Focusing on his glossed eyes and parted lips, she whimpers at the intensifying sensations as she reached her quivering pinnacle, spasming and clasping tightly around his hardness that jerked inside her, coating every inch to ease his ministrations.

_Jesus Fuck!_ With a savage roar, Negan followed and came into her fiercely, clutching her body and keeping her planted in place. Feeling his dick convulsing as more of his hot seed spilled deep inside her, overflowing to trickle between their bodies as his thrusts stuttered to a halt, he sank his teeth into the curve of her neck. Loosening his restraint, Negan turns his gorgeous wife to face him, keeping himself buried to the hilt while regaining composure and witnessing that expression of bliss he loved seeing on her. Eyeing the indents of his teeth on her ebony skin spurred venereal ideas for the day of their visit to Alexandria, tracing his tongue over the mark to soothe it.

"Atta' girl. Fuck... I do fucking believe Lucille even got a little jealous there. Look at you." Negan laughs breathlessly in praise, smoothing along her thigh. "Goddamn. I knew you were a wild one."

The words rolled off his tongue as though the world had begun moving again, a light dizziness claiming her hazy mind at what had transpired. Her gaze glued to the floor, her breaths gradually begin normalising again, caught off guard when Negan reaches out and tilts her chin so her eyes befell him. Something distinct about the way he was regarding her.

"Tell me you love me." Still riding through the aftermath, he parts her dishevelled dreadlocks to have a clear view as his face appeared unguarded for a blink.

It was often jarring to hear warmth from this man, as opposed to his usual vituperative tone. Michonne tightens her lips, eventually pouring the empty words from her mouth. "I love you."

"Of course, you do." Something strangely akin to affection appears as quick as it disappears, before he inhales sharply, seizing her attention. "But we sure as hell ain't done here."

Michonne's brow furrow as a question forms on her lips, however Negan leans close to brush his own against her in gentle contact with a smooth, sensuous voice. One of titillating promise.

"Get on the bed."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ** I know this is a turn from my last story haha, please bear with me ~ I was feeling inspired to write tributes to some of my first and favourite fics of this pair. They will be like short continuations, to summarise. This first one is dedicated to Hymenoptera who wrote 'An Ordered Pair'. I love to explore other possible routes for these two. Guilty Pleasure. Hope you enjoy! ~


End file.
